


quicksilver

by touchstarved



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, happy quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23386594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchstarved/pseuds/touchstarved
Summary: “You see, as your husband, I consider it my duty to, er, distract you from these night terrors.”
Relationships: Thomas Sharpe/Original Character(s), Thomas Sharpe/Reader, Thomas Sharpe/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	quicksilver

**Author's Note:**

> I've been horny for Thomas Sharpe since I was a baby in high school, and quarantine gave me the time to sit down + get a lil champagne drunk + finish this. It was originally going to be a fic where Reader is essentially Edith, then it was going to be a fic where Reader was from the 21st century and fell into Crimson Peak, but now it's just a filthy little oneshot with very little outside context so, like...take it however you want, I guess :) happy reading!

You never had nightmares before Allerdale Hall.

It’s hard, living in a house like this. It seems to have a life of its own, more than any other place you’ve lived. The way the rust-red clay seeps in, running down the kitchen walls and bubbling up through the floorboards. The way each gust of wind sets off a series of creaks and moans that shudder through the walls, as though the house itself were gasping for air. 

It’s this last bit that wakes you up tonight. Or something like it, anyway. As you sit there—shoulders tensed, eyes wide, your brain trying to process how rapidly you were torn from sleep—you’re left with a ringing in your ears that feels more real than dream. Not the groaning of an old, worn down estate, but a _shrieking._

The floor is colder than you expect. You grab your dressing gown off its hook and pull it on as you tiptoe in your stocking feet to the door, down the hall, to the stairs. The air seems to drop several degrees as soon as you leave your room; it doesn’t take long to see why. At the foot of the stairs, you see the first floor is now home to a pile of freshly fallen snow. 

For a while, you do nothing but shiver in the foyer, blinking up at the ever-gaping hole in the ceiling. The grey clouds brought by the snow have since cleared, and each star that winks down at you seems to taunt, flaunting their freedom before you.

“Darling?” You whirl around to see Thomas at the foot of the stairs, candle in hand. “It’s pitch black out.”

“I’m sorry, I…” You bite your lip, unsure of what to say. “I woke up from a dream, a nightmare, and I heard a noise. A strange noise, a cryi—creaking.” You’re not quite sure why you feel the need to lie to him. “A creaking.”

“I see.” He looks decidedly unconvinced. 

You duck your head in embarrassment, keenly aware of the sheerness of your nightgown, and the immodest tumble of curls to your waist. Somehow, in a month of marriage, this is the most undressed he’s ever seen you.

“I’m sorry to have woken you,” you finally murmur.

He lets out a chuckle, his voice throatier than usual at this ungodly hour. “To the contrary, I’m rather glad.”

“Oh?”

“You see, as your husband, I consider it my duty to... _distract_ you from these night terrors.”

You feel the familiar heat of a blush spread across your cheeks at what he’s implying. “Oh.” You close your eyes for a moment, trying to steady your breathing, when suddenly you are scooped up. His arms are as strong as they were when he carried you across the threshold. You feel a rush at the touch of his skin to yours, even in such a relatively chaste capacity, but that’s nothing compared to the jolt you get when, halfway up the stairs, he crushes his mouth to yours in a bruising kiss. 

When you reach the bedroom, you’re flushed and dizzy, with one arm thrown around his neck and the other clutching his shirt. You half expect to be thrown on the bed, considering the state of frenzy you are both currently in, but not so - instead, he takes his time lowering you to the mattress, gently pressing his lips to yours before leaning back to pull off his shirt in one fluid, graceful motion. You admire the contours that flow across his body, from pectoral muscles and shoulders all the way down to his long, clever fingers.

He’s glorious.

You feel so small.

The first touch of his hands on the bare skin of your ankles nearly has you jumping. He notices, and looks up, the lust in his eyes making way for a note of concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You nod vehemently. “Yes, it’s just...I’m nervous.” Your cheeks flush at the confession. He, on the other hand, doesn’t seemed surprised at all, a soft smile rising to his mouth that is equal parts tender and indecent. 

“That’s only natural,” he says, climbing back up to be above you once more, his eyes level with yours. He kisses you again, deeper this time, and your mouth parts slightly, granting his tongue access. You’d never been one for open-mouth kisses before, but this is far from the slobbering of some overexcited stable boy. Instead, the sweep of his tongue against yours both soothes and stokes the rapidly growing ache between your legs; the feeling that you need to be closer to him, the feeling that even this isn’t close enough. 

When he pulls away, both of you panting a bit, the smile has become a surprised smirk, and you realize with a blush that your fingers have somehow found their way into his hair. Your instinct is to pull away with apologetic eyes, but your hand has scarcely left his head before he catches your wrist.

“It’s all right. I want you to touch me.” He runs a thumb across your wrist, his skin rough against yours. You let out a soft breath at the sensation. He leans in closer, whispering into your neck, “I want my _wife_ to touch me.”

**Author's Note:**

> keep the requests coming, my loves! part 2 of this (as well as some gomens stuff from my reqlist) in the works. stay safe and healthy out there.


End file.
